


468. Do you wanna do a snowman?

by SevlinRipley



Series: This is No-Terror Ground [12]
Category: It - All Media Types
Genre: Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Implied/Referenced Non-Sexual Age Play, M/M, Sexual Language, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 16:37:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13768176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SevlinRipley/pseuds/SevlinRipley
Summary: Richie wakes Eddie up for a snow day, but Eddie's interests lie elsewhere.• Friday; December 17, 1993





	468. Do you wanna do a snowman?

**Author's Note:**

> Eddie's already 18, and Richie will be 18 in a few months. I imagine this taking place shortly before winter break.
> 
>  
> 
> **Please go check out _[This Must Be the Place](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13574274)_ by [brittlelimbs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brittlelimbs/pseuds/brittlelimbs) who brought to life the idea of Richie sexually imitating Eddie. Whose fic is way too good to actually be associated with anything I've written. But...**

Richie's sleep patterns were all over the place, mostly because of his work schedule. Some nights were more difficult, unwinding taking an extra long time, while others had him passing out the second his head hit his bed. Like last night. Which had facilitated him waking up earlier than usual, only to find that school had been cancelled because of the snow building up. And, at the very least, Derry was not completely oblivious to the abnormally critical amount of car crashes that transpired every first snow of the year. So, everyone got a free day.

This meant, of course, that Richie was pulling on his long johns, sweatpants and a tee, then his snow coat, snow pants, and boots, before heading over to Eddie's when it was still dark out, and bitingly cold. With his scarf tucked around his neck and mouth, and a beanie down over his ears, curls of hair sticking out, Richie trudged through the falling snowflakes. Admiring the crunching beneath his feet, freshly compacted crystals of white, reflecting the orange glow of the streetlamps.

It was stupid, he knew, but it was the only way passed Mrs. K, at least until he was already _in_ the house. At least they'd replaced the trellis with a wooden ladder that Richie's dad hadn't used in over a decade. And Richie was able to clap the snow off the soles of his boot, one foot at a time, before he climbed upward, gripping tight with both gloved hands, as he made his way up, and then moved quickly through the window. Skin burning with the newfound heat of Eddie's bedroom.

He smiled softly to himself as he took a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe at his fogging glasses. (A gift from an irritated Eddie, last year, after Richie had once yelled at him, 'I can't _see_!' when Eddie'd been particularly bitchy about Richie running into him upon entering school one day. Never mind the slip of his melting boots once they hit linoleum, as an aid, besides his glasses being fucked.) He'd never removed it, when packing the coat up as Spring rolled in.

Once he could see again, Richie shook his head. Eddie was practically uncovered, only one foot managing to be wrapped in his comforter, over-warm in the heater's non-stop onslaught. Mrs. Kaspbrack kept it a sweltering 85 degrees during the winter months.

Good for Richie, though. The snowfall was melted, and dry after a minute of running his fingers over the knickknacks on Eddie's bookshelf.

With his toes, Richie removed his boots at the heel. Took his gloves and scarf off and stuffed them in the holes of his boots. Then sidled up onto the bed, following the curve of Eddie's body, as he got a hand low on Eddie's belly. The cotton of his white undershirt much softer against Richie's fingertips, than the scratchy fabric lining his gloves. " _Baby_ ," he whisper-crooned, getting his mouth up close to the shell of Eddie's ear, "Wake up. Snow day. We can go build a snowman together."

Eddie's brow drew tight and he huffed out a soft little breath. "Huh?" he asked, bleary-eyed, turning under Richie's hold so that he was more on his back, able to look up at Richie. He found Richie's hand on his stomach, locked their fingers together. "Early... What're you doing here?"

Fuck, Richie loved him... Couldn't wait until they got to wake each other up _every_ day. "I said it's a snow day," Richie repeated, lines at the sides of his mouth as he held back a laugh, a snow and dark-encased voice that kept quiet for Eddie's newly awake ears, too. "I wanna build a snowman with Baby E... if that's okay. We won't stay out long."

"Oh," Eddie huffed, one eye falling closed, lazy. "I thought. When you - I thought you were gonna..." Eddie's hand flexed over Richie's, minutely moving it closer to the edge of his waistband.

Richie's eyebrows arched up, a giddy sort of amusement in his voice as he playfully asked, voice stronger now, "Gonna what? Morning wood got yer tongue?" From where he was leaning on the one elbow, he was able to angle his face, press a mouth-opening kiss to Eddie's lips.

A muffled whine entered the short distance between them as Richie pulled back, glasses threatening to ride too low on his nose, maybe fall off altogether. "Wish it'd get yours," Eddie muttered, sounding both put out and tired. A wicked smile formed on his face, even as he awkwardly brushed the rim of his glasses against his puffy coat to press them back up by any means that meant he didn't have to steal his hand from Eddie's.

"That's the sleepiness _and_ the horniness talking, Eds." He slid their hands to rest beside Eddie's waist, instead, while he maneuvered himself over the top of Eddie. Ready to mock him and kiss him from a different angle. Kiss him awake with a mixture of chaste presses of lips, and some more languid ones.

Eddie's other hand found the collar of Richie's coat, tugged at it shortly. "C'mon, take this off. I want to."

He didn't specify what it was, exactly, that he wanted 'to.' But Richie could only laugh, and shake his head. He kissed Eddie's mouth closed, then pressed one to the corner of his mouth, then up along his jaw, before whispering into Eddie's ear, "I want to, too, but I can't. This is all part of my Grand Master strategy. Keep you on edge for about a year, then when we finally rip our chastity belts off for each other, I'm gonna ruin you for anyone else, ever."

"Then get off of me..." Eddie whined, pushing at Richie's chest, with both palms. His eyes were open now, at least, and Richie inhaled, taking a second, in his resistance, to stare Eddie down. It worked, and Eddie's hands stopped pressing, not that they'd been aggressively urgent in the first place. Instead, they clutched at Richie's collars again, pulled him into another kiss. Sweet lips, warm tongue.

When they parted, Richie let his face fall into Eddie's neck. His breath ghosted across Eddie's chest, as he said, "Can't. I seem to have discovered some kind of magnetic field in our - crotch - area."

"Then _don't_ get off of me," Eddie said, working his fingers up into Richie's hair, beneath his beanie. " _Rich_." A gentle tug at his scalp, pulled Richie up to face Eddie once more.

"Can't, Eddie... But admit it; you like it. It gets your jimmies off knowing I won't touch you yet. You get hard over such a long-term tease, huh, baby? Bet you fucking _moan_ my name in the shower, like water pounding against the tub is some sort of black hole, catching the sounds of you jerking off. But anyone walking by could _hear you_ , know _exactly_ what you're doing and why. Bet when you're doing it here, on your bed, you have to lay on your stomach. Bite your screams into your pillow." His voice went a little higher then, a mimic of Eddie, "'Oh _yeah_ Richie! _Uh - uh_ , I fucking - I fucking _love_ you, _fuck_!' Bet you cum so hard you think you're gonna pass out."

Eddie's eyes were even darker, somehow, in the dim light straying in from the window and the crack under the door. Richie's probably much the same. He'd brought a fire up under his own skin, and knew Eddie was probably flushed all the way beneath his collar. "Richie, _please_ ," Eddie said, then, voice sounding caught. Raw. Hand curled around Richie's neck, fingernails digging moons into his nape.

Richie kissed an even more wounded sound into Eddie's mouth, grazed the skin beneath his ear with his teeth before returning to a whisper, again. "Not yet. C'mon, Eds, get yourself off for me... And meet me out front."

Arms falling, pouting and tantrum-like, to his sides, Eddie let Richie move off of him. Richie's head swam as he stood, and he swooned, but began reaching for his scarf nevertheless. He was gonna have to stick his dick in the snow. Fuck a snowman? ...No. He could hear Eddie, now, screaming at him for getting his cock frost-bitten off before they ever got a chance to use it. He was still wobbly by the time he'd pulled everything on again. Wondering if Eddie was shameless and after it enough to already be touching himself with Richie still in the room. His knees were weak, and muscles felt like jelly, nerves firing off at his neck, sending signals to his brain from his balls asking what the _fuck_ he thought he was doing. Already over-heating from the indoor temperatures combined with his winter-wear.

"All your blood left your head, dumb ass. You're gonna fall off the fucking roof. Use the god damn front door," Eddie said, gruff, and definitely one-hundred percent awake now.

Richie saluted him, 'Aye aye, captain.' But then swooped down toward the bed to give Eddie one last, gentle kiss. "You're not really mad at me, are you?" he asked, quiet, and more fervent than he'd meant.

Eddie rolled his eyes, finger following the shell of Richie's ear. "No," he huffed. "Just don't want you to kill yourself."

When Eddie emerged fifteen or so minutes later, and sat down by Richie on the icy porch steps, he muttered, "I didn't have anything - _cute_ \- to wear." He was in a normal set of snow clothes, just like Richie was. No snowflake patterns, or line-art stars. No useless mittens, nor stripey beanie. His snow boots didn't have a picture of the abominable snowman printed on the side, or even Frosty the snowman, for that matter.

Richie took his hand, and folded it over Eddie's, on his leg. "How very dare you!" Richie said, an image of a scandalized Georgia Peach. "It's the little boy that makes the clothes cute, not the other way around. And _my_ little boy is _always_ cute." His eyes were sparkling, in the softer blue of the sky, a sun rising somewhere behind blankets of clouds, when he looked Eddie in the eyes again. Brushed his nose against Eddie's, and then began to show a much littler Eddie the carrot he'd brought for a nose, and the buttons he'd brought for the eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> It legitimately snowed last night for the first time since Christmas, and I'm so excited. And then what was going to be innocent playing in the snow became this. IDEK. Sorry??? My mind went in the gutter (like it so often does.) Lol, also... awkward question, but I'm prepared to be told the truth: should the tag 'dirty talk' be changed to 'bad dirty talk'? I'm pretty easy, so idk what the standard actually is.


End file.
